Assistance
by somethingmeaningful
Summary: AU. Marshall isn't happy with the grade his TA gave him. Benji (Gumball's new name in this fic so he doesn't sound so...hick), the TA, isn't happy period. Will a bad grade lead to good marks? Or will this summary not really cover what is going to happen? Read and find out!


A/N: I have returned from the grave my darlings! I apologize for my absence, but school (and work) called. But now, as I have a lot more time this summer, I am hoping to get back in the swing of things! For my Sweet B, Season 2 darlings, know that Episode Two is coming soon! For now, this is a new idea that I've been toying with. I want you all to know that I am safe, and that you guys are my darlings. I went through some difficult times while writing most of my work, but reading your reviews and comments made me feel exponentially better! I thank you all for that. I've become a much happier person, and (here's a fun little secret!) I am my city's premiere Zombie Drag Queen! But not to worry darlings! I don't eat brains! I'm a vegetarian! Anyway, enjoy this for now, and look for Episode Two soon! Read/Review/Love/Enjoy.

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The lecture hall reeked of cheap bagels and cream cheese and general indifference towards whatever was being said. With three weeks separating the present-day and finals, the seats were generally empty. The tubby professor lectured with gusto and might to a less than enthusiastic audience. He didn't notice that no one really cared; he was old, and with his age he grew happier lecturing every other day from 10 to 11:30 about his favorite subject. However, with his old age came a standstill with the technology of the day. Currently, he was lecturing about the economic state of Renaissance Europe, with a specific focus on France and Germany. To go with this incredibly esoteric topic, he had a slideshow presentation. The slide that was being shown said in all capital letters:

"GERMANY / FRANCE ECONOMMICS"

No one had the heart to tell the old professor about his spelling error, so it simply gleamed to all of his students. For the next ten minutes, the professor droned on about something remotely relevant to the current topic.

Seven rows from the back of the lecture hall, sat a particularly disinterested student. He slumped in his seat and struggled to keep his eyes open. He had abandoned his notes within the first twenty minutes of class, and now was barely picking up the key points of the lecture.

"Now scholars," the adorable professor began, "I have your papers from two weeks ago with me, so before you go, please come and grab it before you leave for the weekend!"

Marshall Lee had paid attention to that statement. His brain had developed the ability to hear the phrase "now scholars" and realize that the end of class was near. As per usual, it had worked and he now had received the message from the jovial old man. He straightened up in the seat and blinked his eyes slowly and somewhat dramatically. Reaching up, he stretched out his cramped form and started to pack up his abandoned notes.

After throwing the notebook in his backpack, he quickly hopped up and slung the backpack on. He swept his fingers through his hair and huffed out a sigh. Slowly he approached the front of the lecture hall. Despite the small number of students in attendance, Dr. Montgomery had a difficult time with finding the papers and would have to ask the student's name a few times before he could find their essay. Marshall Lee found himself settling near the end of the line, with only a few students behind him. Dr. Montgomery was his last class of the day, so he didn't have anywhere to be, and he didn't mind waiting.

The line moved slowly, and Marshall Lee fiddled with his cardigan as he gradually moved closer to the effervescent professor. The white cable knit sweater was soft and he found himself growing more unaware of his actions as the line moved. Before too long, he realized he was separated from the professor by only one person. He stopped his fingers from boring a hole in his cardigan. The person in front of him moved out of the line and left the lecture hall.

"And your name my scholar?" the professor asked with a baritone that had a lullaby-esque quality to it.

"Marshall Lee," Marshall Lee began before realizing that the old man would need his last name also, "ugh, Marshall Lee Abadeer."

"Marshall Lee Abadeer! Now let me see," the old man had began to look through the stack of essays and would bring each one up to his nose and look at the name. It was then when Marshall Lee remembered why he came to this class. Dr. Montgomery was such an incredibly adorable old man and Marshall Lee had a soft spot for him. He was balding, but still kept his hair around his head like a furry, gray, halo. He had a thick and full beard that gave him a welcoming aura. Marshall Lee was nearly convinced he was actually Santa Claus, because he figured that Santa needed a real job the other eleven months of the year.

As Dr. Montgomery continued to flip through the papers, Marshall Lee's fingers subconsciously found the hem of his sweater again.

"Abadeer, right?" the professor asked as he looked at Marshall Lee over the top of an essay.

"Right. Like the Swedish pop band and the forest creature."

Dr. Montgomery gave a smile and a little huff of laughter as he carded through the essays. Marshall Lee flattened his smile and waited. He examined the old man. He was wearing a red vest and had a cream colored button-down shirt underneath. The cuffs were rolled up once to reveal the age-stained hands and stubby fingers of Dr. Montgomery. He wore black khakis that looked to be a few sizes too big, even for the overweight professor. The orthopedic shoes were the icing on the cake and Marshall Lee couldn't help but smile. He wondered if his wife picked out his clothing every morning for him. He bet she did.

"Here you are Marshall Lee my scholar! See you Monday! Have a lovely weekend!"

Marshall Lee took the paper from Dr. Montgomery and smiled.

"You too Dr. Montgomery!"

Essay in hand, Marshall Lee moved quickly towards the exit. He was anxious to see the result of his essay, but had a weird superstition about checking the grade in the same place he turned it in. He had written the paper the night before, and had thought that he had done well. The prompt was somewhat vague and the five page minimum was a pain, but overall, Marshall Lee thought he had deserved at least a B+ on the paper.

He nervously exited the lecture hall and found a seat on the closest bench. Staring at the first page, and each page after for that matter, Marshall Lee noticed that there were quite a few red marks in the margins. In neat handwriting that didn't seem to belong to his professor, Marshall Lee read things like, "awkward," "contradicts thesis," "?," "relevance?," "what is the point of this quote?," and Marshall Lee's personal favorite, "No."

Marshall Lee sat there a little demoralized by the onslaught of comments made by the red ink. It was as if they were mocking him. He then turned the paper over to find out what the grade was.

C-.

Marshall Lee sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't received any grade lower than a B+ on a paper ever. Yes, he was prone to fall asleep in class, but he read the textbook and made sure he knew what was going to be lectured as he slept.

Resting his elbows on his knees and placing his essay on his lap, Marshall Lee held up his head with his hands and read the small paragraph that accompanied the grade.

In the same neat handwriting, it read: "You started with a very weak thesis, and that set you up for a weak paper. Though the points you made were supported and examined, they were supporting a weak central idea. Next time build your thesis so you can have a strong paper."

"What does that even mean?" Marshall Lee said silently to himself.

As he sulked and re-read the paragraph, he heard the lecture hall door open. Dr. Montgomery was stepping out and looked just as happy as he did in lecture. Marshall Lee, half out of stupidity, and half out of pride stood up and walked over to the old professor.

"Dr. Montgomery?" he began with caution.

The old man looked at him through round little glasses that would gradually slide down his nose.

"Yes my scholar?"

"Why'd I get a C-?"

Bluntness had always been Marshall Lee's best and worst qualities.

Dr. Montgomery was taken somewhat by surprise.

"Oh! Well, I wouldn't be the one to ask! I was unfortunately swamped the past two weeks, and spent my weekends in New York visiting my daughter. I had the TA grade them for me! He'd be the one to ask!"

Marshall Lee listened as his favorite professor told him to seek out the TA for a clarification regarding his grade.

"Thank you Dr. Montgomery," Marshall Lee began. He then wanted to make the encounter seem less assault-y and added, "Renaissance Italian Economics next Monday?"

The old professor smiled and nodded vigorously, "most certainly my scholar! See you then!"

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A/N: Okay, y'all know I don't put the post script in, but I will give y'all one guess as to who the TA is. C'mon. Also...if any of you are artistically capable, I'd love to see what your interpretation of a Zombie Drag Queen is :D


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